Scratch and Claw
by FlaFan
Summary: Squad 51 has a delicate rescue. Based on recent events.


**Scratch and Claw**

 _Squad 51 has a delicate rescue. Based on recent events._

Roy DeSoto's eyes widened at what he saw in the Sears Sunday flyer of the _Los Angeles Times_.

"Hey, Johnny! How about this one?"

John Gage put down the _Times_ sports section and leaned over his paramedic partner's shoulder. "That's nice," he told Roy.

Before Roy had a chance to respond, Chet Kelly chimed in.

"Hey Gage, your partner helping you look for your next date?"

Johnny sighed – his usual reaction when the lineman teased him.

Roy answered. "Chet, he's helping me look for a new patio set. Ours has gotten rusty and moldy."

Johnny grinned. "Kind of like the dinner you cooked last night, Kelly."

This time, Chet's response – "Gage, you d –" was interrupted by the tones. 

" _Squad 51: Child trapped in the diner, Carson Plaza and South Avalon. Carson Plaza and South Avalon. Time out, 14:06."_

The paramedics swiftly headed to the squad while Captain Hank Stanley went to respond to the call. "Station 51, KMG-365," he replied.

As Roy drove, Johnny pondered. "Wonder what would trap a child in a diner," he said out loud. Both men had the same fear – a child had snuck into the kitchen and wedged himself, or herself, into an appliance. For Roy, who had two children, that fear was especially pronounced.

As Squad 51 pulled up to the diner, a woman wearing a white skirt suit and thick brown-shell glasses waited outside and greeted Roy and Johnny as they got out. "I'm glad you made it so quickly," she said. "I'm Mrs. Easler, the manager."

Johnny went to pull out equipment. "Do you know what happened, Ma'am?" he asked.

"He's stuck in a machine," Mrs. Easler replied.

Both paramedics felt chilled with fear.

"In the kitchen?" asked Roy, who was emerging from the left side of the squad.

"Uh, no."

The two paramedics exchanged a glance. _What did that mean?_

Mrs. Easler opened one of the double-glass doors and held it open for Johnny and Roy. They entered, and stopped short.

In front of them was a big glass box on top of a black surface. Inside was a boy, about 2 years old, holding a bright-red stuffed animal.

The two amazed paramedics walked closer to the box. The boy smiled and waved at them. Johnny put up his hand and began to wave back until he noticed Roy looking at him. Johnny half-smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

"These are the Kempers," Mrs. Easler broke into their thoughts. "That's their son, Mark."

"What happened?" Johnny asked.

"Well, we brought Mark over to see if we could get 'Fire Cat' – That's what he started to call him – for him," Mr. Kemper said. "I put in some change and struggled with the handle, but couldn't grab him. We tried to explain that to Mark."

"And then, we went to pay," Mrs. Kemper added. "I had a hold of Mark, but he just ran from my grasp – you know how kids are." Roy nodded in agreement.

"He was able to get up into the machine through the door and grab the cat," Mrs. Easler chimed in.

"But you haven't been able to get him out," Roy concluded.

"Right," Mrs. Easler said. "This is a claw machine…."

"Claw machine?" Johnny asked.

"Yes. See that claw in there? It picks up a toy – sometimes. It's known as a game of chance."

Roy frowned. "Can that claw move with him in there?"

Mrs. Easler shook her head. "Not unless he moves it. I unplugged it. I also called the repairman who installs the toys to open up the machine."

"Good," Johnny said. Then he frowned. "Is he getting any air in there?"

"Well, the slot opens up," replied the manager, bending down and holding it open.

Johnny looked at Roy. "I think I'm going to unscrew that slot," he said.

"Oh, do you need a screwdriver?" Mrs. Easler asked. "We have a toolkit back here."

"That's fine. Thanks," replied Johnny. The manager brought over a sparkling green metal box with silver handles. Johnny opened it and found what he was looking for. He lifted the slot.

"You know, it's tough to get a good look in here," Johnny began to say, but was interrupted by youthful laughter. As he looked around, he bumped his head on the top of the slot.

Johnny's "Ow!" came out as he backed away from the machine. He looked up at Mark, laughing as he held "Fire Cat."

Mrs. Easler gasped. "Are you OK? Can I get you some ice?" she asked.

He smiled at her. "I'm all right, but thanks." Johnny kneeled again and took off the slot. Then, he looked at Roy. "We can't get him out the way he came in."

"Well, let's take a look," Roy said.

"Oh, uh…." Mrs. Easler looked from one side to the other to make sure customers weren't listening. She motioned the paramedics over.

"Take a look at the window of the machine," she whispered. They did, and understood.

"There's a lock in the window," Roy whispered back. Mrs. Easler nodded.

Roy stepped over to confer with Johnny.

Johnny put his hand on his face, as he often did when concerned or pondering something. "Which tool do ya think we should use?" he asked.

Roy looked through the tools in the green box Mrs. Easler had provided and the tools in his back pocket, which both paramedics carried. "Pocket knife?" he asked.

"OK," Johnny agreed, and took out his own. He lifted it to the lock on the machine window.

"Hey! Whaddaya think you're doin' to my machine?!"

That stopped Johnny in his tracks. He, Roy, Mrs. Easler and the Kempers turned to meet a dark-haired man in blue slacks and a short-sleeved, white shirt with blue stripes with the name "Clyde" on a patch over the heart.

As Clyde stalked forward, Roy leaned over to Johnny. "Hey," Roy whispered, "Doesn't he remind you of…."

He didn't get to finish, as Clyde stopped directly in front of them.

"I asked you boys, whaddaya think you're doin' to my machine?!"

Uncharacteristically speechless, Johnny pointed to the machine.

It was Roy who spoke up. "We're trying to get that boy out."

Clyde looked at the machine. Now he was the one who was speechless. But only for a moment.

"How'd that kid get in there?!" he finally demanded.

"He wanted that toy," Johnny shot back. "We're trying to get him out of there. You have the key to the machine?"

"Yeah, yeah," replied Clyde, and got the key out. He looked one way, then the other.

"We're seating the customers on the other side, away from this area, Clyde," Mrs. Easler replied.

Clyde nodded. "OK, Mrs. E." He moved forward, unlocked the window and opened the door.

Roy moved forward, but Clyde stopped him.

Roy grimaced and turned to the maintenance man. "I have to get the boy out. We gotta check him, make sure he's OK," Roy said.

"Yeah, OK," muttered Clyde, and stepped aside.

Roy rolled his eyes at Johnny, then turned back to little Mark. "Hey, Mark. How are you?" he asked. "Come on out here to your mommy and daddy."

As Roy leaned in, Mark hugged the stuffed animal. "Fi Cat! Fi Cat!" he called.

Roy smiled. "OK, OK. Fire Cat can come, too." Roy gently guided boy and stuffed cat forward.

"Wait a minute," Clyde interjected as Roy lifted Mark and Fire Cat out of the machine. "The animal…."

"Is his friend," said Johnny, stepping forward. "Ya know, Fire Cat really helped him through that."

Clyde was speechless, but not for long. "You know how much a stuffed animal costs in that machine?" he demanded.

The Kempers exchanged an anxious glance. Roy and Johnny did the same. _If the kid wasn't able to take that cat with him…._

Johnny looked at the Kempers. "You had paid, right?" he asked.

The couple nodded eagerly. "Yes, we put 50 cents in the machine," said Mr. Kemper, eyeing Clyde nervously.

Clyde looked from one eager face – Kempers, paramedics and Mrs. Easler – to another. He passed a hand over his slicked-back hair.

"Aaaaah….OK, he can keep the cat," Clyde grumbled. The other adults grinned. Mark, hugging Fire Cat, didn't notice.

"Well, we'd just like to check Mark and Fire Cat for a moment, just to make sure they're OK," Roy said. The Kempers agreed.

Roy took the pulse, pressure and respiration of both boy and stuffed animal. Clyde locked the machine, re-installed the slot door and turned toward Johnny.

"Say, fireman, you work with Charlie at the department, don't you?" he asked.

"You mean the mechanic?" Johnny asked. "Yeah, we sure do. You know him?" _Man, I knew this guy had a familiar look about him,_ he thought.

"Yeah, yeah. I play poker with him," Clyde replied. "Complains a lot."

Johnny struggled to hold back a smile. _Bet he's not the only one who complains,_ he thought. "Good mechanic," he said out loud.

Clyde nodded in agreement, then tapped the machine. "Ready to go, Mrs. E.," he told Mrs. Easler.

"Good. Thank you, Clyde," she said, then turned to Johnny. "And both of you, too."

Johnny grinned. "Sure."

Meanwhile, Roy finished his check-up of Mark – and Fire Cat, to the Kempers' amusement. "You're just fine," he told the boy.

"Fi Cat, too?" Mark asked.

"Fire Cat, too."

Mr. Kemper picked up boy and cat. "We can't thank you enough," he said to Roy.

"Just doin' our jobs," responded Roy modestly.

Mrs. Kemper hugged Mark. "We'll keep a closer eye on him," she said.

Roy nodded and moved to put back the pressure cuff. He looked up.

And found Johnny in front of the now-locked claw machine, looking in.

Roy shook his head.

His paramedic partner. Twenty-something going on 5.

"Johnny? What'ya looking at?"

Johnny grinned. "There's a baseball with a Dodgers logo in there."

Roy took a look. Indeed, under about a half-dozen stuffed animals, there was the ball.

"Remember, these machines are called games of chance," Roy said. "That means they're considered gambling."

Johnny frowned. "Oh yeah?" He winced. _No gambling on duty._

Roy nodded. "Maybe we can come back for breakfast after the shift, and you'll give it a try."

His partner's frown quickly changed to a smile, but with the same words. "Oh yeah?"

Roy smiled. "Yeah."

Johnny held his grin. "Well, all right!" he exclaimed, as he picked up the equipment.

Roy keyed the Handi-Talkie. "Squad 51 available," and heard Sam Lanier's "Squad 51" back.

As he followed Johnny out of the diner, Roy thought:

 _Watching Johnny fighting with that machine should be entertaining. He probably won't get that Dodgers baseball, but maybe he'll grab something for my kids._

THE END


End file.
